Once upon a lifetime
by Winged Cherry
Summary: You have two years left to live. What would you do? Right. Live like there won't be a tomorrow. Because one day, there won't be. Now it's up to Chelsea to figure out how. Vaughn x Chelsea, first person perspective. Rated T for future chapters
1. Prologue

**Chapter 1**

My parents didn't have a clue as to what was wrong with me. Without an apparent reason I had some bad cases of hyperventilation, I looked pale, bruised really easily and had been catching colds non-stop. They hoped it was just a bad case of the flue, but a quick blood test at the hospital proved them wrong and a painful bone marrow punction confirmed it. How they wished it had been the flue. I don't think they had ever been that shocked in their life's. My name was Chelsea, I was seventeen years old and suffered leukemia.

But the doctor had been very positive. Turned out that seventy to eighty percent of the young leukemia patients survived. He prescribed me medication to slow down the cell division and arranged for me to have chemotherapy. I'd be fixed up before I knew it, he had told me. But chemo sucked. Majorly. I always felt worse afterwards than I did before. It was a matter of time before my hair fell out and I started wearing bandannas. My favourite was the red one my dad had bought me.

Every 6 weeks they did a blood test, to examine my progress. Each time they told me I was doing great, but all the values and numbers they mentioned didn't mean much to me. One year after my diagnosis, I received a phone call to go to the hospital and take my parents with me. It had been two days since my last blood test. I had already seen it coming, but my parents were speechless, bewildered and upset when they heard the news. The medicines didn't help anymore and the chemo could only prolong my remaining lifespan to three years max. If it had been up to my parents, they had signed the papers for the chemo. But I was eighteen back then. The choice was all up to me.

"How much longer do I have without the chemo?" I inquired.

"Provided that we start you on different medicines, two year. Give or take 4 months."

"Different medicines?" My dad had asked.

"Medicines with the same effect as chemotherapy, only weaker. It's your call." Absentmindedly, I had nodded.

"Is it all right if we call as soon as we have made our decision?" My mom questioned.

* * *

When we drove back home, my dad's knuckles saw white from squeezing the steering wheel and my mom didn't say a word, the tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as the rain furiously knocked on the windscreen. I looked outside at the passing scenery and counted the trees. I stopped at twenty-four.

The decision was surprisingly easily made by me. Three years meant nothing if I had to spent them horizontally on my bed. Convincing my parents on the other hand, had been hard. I could understand it must be difficult to let go of your child, but this was about my life. No matter how long it would last. But in the end, they gave in. With a dry mouth I had dialed the doctor's phone number and announced my decision.

Slightly dumbfounded by my own action, I sat down at the dinner table. Two years left, seven hundred and thirty days. The cat jumped on my lap and I stroked its soft fur slowly. I had too many things I still wanted to do. I wanted to fly on a plane, I wanted to learn how to drive, I wanted to have my first kiss, I wanted to wish on a falling star, I wanted to marry. I wasn't done living yet. Suddenly the cat jumped off my lap and seated itself on the window sill; the postman had delivered our mail. I stood up and went outside to empty our mailbox and quickly went through its contents. A postcard from one of our relatives, bills and leaflets. Nothing interesting. I stopped when I saw a brightly coloured leaflet with farm animals and crops on it and a headline that read _'A once in a lifetime oppertunity!'_. The text on the leaflet read that it was an advertisement of a man, too old to take care of his ranch any longer. He was willingly to sell it off for only 7,500 G. My eyes soon wandered back to the headline. Before I fully realised what I was doing, I had dropped the mail and had run inside to loot my piggy bank.

* * *

_Yes, this will be a multi-chaptered story for a change, so the one-shots will be put on hold for a while. I hope I didn't scare everybody away with the moodiness of the first chapter. Let me know who's sticking around. :)_


	2. Swept away

**Chapter 2**

It had been a week since I had received the leaflet that would change my life. I had all the paperwork arranged and had closed the deal with the former owner of _Raisin Ranch*_. My dad had objected loudly to the absurd idea at first, but my mom had convinced him it would be good for me to meet new people and experience new things. She had stated it would be selfish of them to keep me around to reassure them I was still alive and I agreed with her. Together my mom and I persuaded him to let me go on adventure, provided that I called my parents at least once every three days. High on dopamine I had gone to the hairdresser's and gotten myself a natural looking, brown wig. It looked pretty similar to how my own hair used to look, save for the fact the wig had been made out of horse hair. It had felt good to be a little bit normal again. I looked out of the plane window again, still as thrilled as the first time I did so. I had never dared to imagine flying would be this awesome. I decided that if reincarnation existed, I was gonna be bird.

With merely a suitcase, a bagpack and a collection of official papers, I arrived at the airport. It was incredibly crowded, but the large crowd only got me more excited. Before catching a cab, I visited the souvenir shop quickly and got myself a tiny plane figurine. Under normal circumstances, I would never buy souvenirs. I didn't like them, I would always end up losing them and they weren't worth the money. But my diagnosis had changed things quite a bit and I changed my mind. I needed something tangible to remind me of the adventures I had gone on and the things I had experienced.

"Where is it you want to go, missy?" The driver asked.

"The harbor. As quickly as possible, please." He nodded and abruptly pushed in the gas pedal. According to my schedule it would take half an hour in the least to get to the harbor. But with this driver, it only took half the time. When we arrived at the harbor, I give an applause and he lifted his cap, honoured.

The harbor wasn't any less crowded than the airport had been, but it didn't hinder me at all. I ran aboard, convinced a random guy to go with me to the bow of the ship and hold me like the dude in the Titanic. Why he agreed to it, I don't know, but I enjoyed every second of it as I breathed in the salty air while the wind blew through my hair. I was about to close my eyes when I realised I had forgotten something. I quickly pecked the guy's cheek as a token of thanks and stormed off; I had left my suitcase on the pier. Luckily, it was still there when I arrived. And luckily, the ship hadn't left while I was fetching my luggage.

Slightly disorientated, nauseous and dizzy, I got off the ship. My tummy grumbled and it had the right to. Due to seasickness, my lunch drifted somewhere in the big wide ocean now. Poor lunch. I sighed and dragged myself to the diner near by. Compared to the earlier places I had been that day, the diner was very peaceful and even quiet. Apart from the man behind the counter, there were only two persons present. A pretty girl with long blonde hair and a green dress eating a fish dish sat in the upper right corner, and a young man with a cowboy hat with a don't-come-near-me aura eating porridge in the opposite corner. I was heading for the counter when the dizziness caught me off-guard. My vision got blurred and the world started to spin around me and with shaky knees, I took a few more steps. I must have been looking pretty drunk before I collapsed.

"…collapsed…"

"…call …doctor..?"

I vaguely registered voiced around me. My head hurt. And not just my head, my everything hurt. It felt as if I had been knocked down by a truck. A very big truck. I let out a low growl as I attempted to get up, but someone pushed me back on my back. I cracked my eyes open and found myself looking at two friendly-looking brown ones.

"She's up!" Their blonde owner happily exclaimed. I attempted to get up again, confused. This time the blonde didn't push me down. The man who had been behind the counter earlier had been speaking on the phone when the blonde called, while the man with the cowboy hat, whom I had officially named 'Cowboy', had been flipping through a thick book. I assumed it was a phone book. The dinner's owner hung up the phone and gave the cowboy a nod.

"Would you mind bringing her home, Vaughn?" He inquired. The Cowboy raised an eyebrow.

"Raisin Ranch. She appears to be the new rancher." The Cowboy merely nodded before walking over to me and scooping me off the floor. I would have objected if I felt any better than I did right then. Instead, I just enjoyed the warmth of his chest and his strong arms holding me.

* * *

I must have drifted to sleep somewhere on the way to the ranch, because when I woke up, I found myself in a soft bed, buried underneath numerous sheets. Although it felt as if my head had been filled with cotton, I still felt better than I did at the dinner. I turned around so I would be lying on my left side and saw the Cowboy sitting on a chair next to my bed. He had taken the hat off, though. That would make him the silvery haired guy now.

"You feeling any better?" he inquired.

"Right as rain," I mumbled and he nodded.

"Good. I made you some noodles." He stood up and disappeared out of my sight, but returned a few seconds later with a damping bowl with noodles. Meanwhile I managed it to be sitting upstraight and he handed me a damping bowl and a pair of chopsticks before sitting back down on the chair next to my bed.

"You might wanna see a doctor." I simply nodded while nibbling the noodles. They tasted somewhat funny. A silence filled the room while I finished my second lunch of the day.

"In a village nearby, Mineral Town, is a very good doctor. I'm pretty certain he'll be able to fix you up," the hat-less cowboy, or silvery haired guy, suggested.

"You got his number?" I asked. I wasn't interested at that very moment, but it would have to come in handy later. I watched him stand up and rummage through drawers and cabinets. Eventually he found both a pen and a tiny piece of paper. He tried to flatten the sorry bit of paper a bit before penning the number down on it and handed it to me. I swallowed.

"Thank you. For the number and… helping me out."

"No problem." A short awkward silence followed. He folded his hands in his lap and leaned back on the chair.

"What's your name actually?"

"Chelsea. Yours?"

"Vaughn."

"Nice meeting you, Vaughn," I smiled. I could have been mistaken, but right then I could have sworn I saw something similar appear on his face.

* * *

_*Raisin Ranch is a pun. You'll see if you add an apostrophe behind Raisin.  
It doesn't add much to the story, but I like the name. It reminds me of the saying 'to raise someones spirits'._

_A cookie for your thoughts, praise, comments and criticism!_


	3. Partners in crime

**Chapter 3**

The past two days have been really busy ones. The old man Taro, the former owner of the ranch, had stopped by to educate me on all the tips and tricks there were to farming and fishing, while Mirabelle had payed me a visit to inform me of the great advantages of keeping chickens, sheep and cows. I had been to Chen and Charlie's to buy two bags of seeds, but ended up leaving with more than I could sow.  
_(Note to self: be more careful with full-fledged salesmen like them in future.)_

And although it had cost me a lot of sweat, I was now the proud caretaker of two tiny turnip fields. I had never thought that the tiny sprouting leaves of a turnip would look so adorable. Not adorable enough to name each turnip, though.

I was just done watering my crops when someone called my name loudly. I looked around,only to see a flash of blonde and green storm towards me. I was relieved when the blonde didn't pounce me like a predator pounces its victim. I did get a hug, though.

"How are you?" She beamed. I raised my eyebrows.

"Uhm. I'm fine."

"Good. Because you scared all of us to death when you collapsed at the dinner." I nodded and scratched the back of my head.

"It won't happen again," I solemnly swore, like I had learned with the girl scouts back when I was a little kid. The blonde frowned.

"It'd better not!" she squeaked. It made me laugh and once I had started, she had to laugh too. It took her a while before she realised she hadn't introduced herself yet and squeezed me tightly when she did. I wouldn't forget the name Lanna any time soon.

* * *

Around noon I left the ranch to grab a bite at the diner. Not because only because I ran out of bread, but because I couldn't cook if it were to safe my life. The diner was just as quiet as it had been when I came there the first time and got swept off my feet. Quite literally. I was glad when the diner's owner, whose name turned out to be Nick, didn't bring it up. Instead he told me that if I ever wanted to learn some recipes, I shouldn't hesitate to ask. I had joked that giving me recipes would be a waste of paper, but he convinced me he had some recipes up his sleeve even I couldn't mess up. I took his word for it and went home with a filled stomach and a plain noodle recipe. I was _so _going to prove him wrong.

But before I went home, I stopped by at Taro's house to proudly report the progress on the ranch I had made. But the old man was no where to be found. Instead, I found a red haired woman, about my age, sitting on the floor in front of a book case. Said floor was entirely covered with books. She must have heard my footsteps, because suddenly she let out a surprised yelp and jumped up.

"Oh, it's just you," she sighed.

"Yup. Just me," I repeated, slightly offended. The red haired woman sat back down where she had been sitting when I came in and motioned for me to come closer.

"Make yourself useful and help me turn these books upside down," she commanded. I raised an eyebrow.

"That old bastard is making me rearrange all these books. Alphabetically." She pursed her lips and frowned. Apparently just thinking of it kind of pissed her off. I couldn't blame her and grinned.

"Nothing sweeter than revenge, eh?" She smirked and nodded.

"Sweet, sweet revenge. Nice meeting you, by the way. Name's Natalie," She stuck out her hand and I shook it.

"Chelsea."

We must have been at least an hour busy sorting out the books, when something suddenly occurred to me.

"Hey, Natalie?" I questioned.

"Hm?"

"Do you happen to know where Vaughn lives?" I tried to ask as casually as possible.

"Vaughn? He doesn't really live somewhere. He just stays two days a week at Mirabelle's. Why?" Her eyes shone mischievously.

"No reason," I quickly replied. "I just kind of owe him something."

"'Owe him something', eh?"

"Few days ago, he carried me home," I admitted, trying to get the awkward conversation over with. She must have noticed, because she just nodded and continued sorting books. This lasted, however, less than two minutes, because then she couldn't resist asking any longer.

"Piggy-back style?" She inquired, laughing. I couldn't help but laugh too, now she had started.

Altogether, sorting books must have kept us busy for at least two hours, and another fifteen minutes to turn every single book upside down. But it was fun. We came across some rare finds, such as the first edition of _Dating for Dummies_ and the legendary _Hundred ways to open a beer bottle_. Natalie figured the first had to be her brother's, but we didn't have a clue to who the latter belonged. We probably didn't want to know, either. When we were finished, Natalie advised me to go home, because old Taro might charge me with complicity.

* * *

As soon as I got home, I realised I still hadn't called my parents like I had promised. Hesitantly, I picked up the horn and dialed my former number. At first it was a little awkward to talk to my mom again, but soon I found myself telling about my latest little adventures. From talking that random guy at the boat into holding me like that guy from the Titanic, at which she laughed, to the little prank Natalie and I pulled off. I didn't mention the incident at the diner though. It would only get her more worried than she needed to be and it gave me an excuse not to tell her about Vaughn.

"How is dad anyway?"

"Your dad is fine. He is just kind of bummed his little girl is growing up."

"He'd better get used to it," I commented and a short silence followed.

"You are taking your medicines daily, right? Like the doctor told you to? And are you getting enough sleep?"

"I'm fine, mom," I protested.

"You'd better be," she muttered. I looked out of the window. The setting sun poured a soft, calming orange light on the fields.

"If you want to, you are free to come and visit me sometime," I proposed. My mom stayed quiet for a short moment.

"I would appreciate that. Thank you, Chels." I smiled: she probably didn't realise she was the one that needed to be thanked.

* * *

_Vaughn carrying Chelsea home piggy-back style would be priceless.  
'Hundred ways to open a beer bottle' isn't a book, by the way. I was looking up some stupid, uh, original book titles and ended up at a Dutch forum. Needless to say the forum was dominated by men. _

_Did you know you can open a beer bottle with the use of a traffic sign?!_


	4. Gloomy rain

**Chapter 4**

It had been a few days since Natalie and I met and I already felt as if we had been friends (or rather, partners in crime) ever since kindergarten. When I ran into Natalie the other day, she had proudly reported that when her grandpa was inspecting her hard work, he was puzzled not to recognise any of the book's titles.* Needless to say he was too confused to thank Natalie, which led to the next prank: the old-fashioned trick in which you put salt in someones coffee instead of sugar. Not very original, but classic nonetheless. I smiled as I washed the dishes of my breakfast, recalling how her anger was instantly replaced by amusement when she told me about the coffee. Mindlessly, I continued to scrub a dirty plate while looking out of the window above the sink. Outside, a heavy rain terrorised the landscape, accompanied by a strong wind. It wasn't really the weather to go outside, but I was curious about what might have washed ashore at the beach and decided to go anyway. I didn't have anything better to day anyway, such as watering the crops.

I put on my yellow raincoat and grabbed my old brightly coloured umbrella and backpack, before leaving my farmhouse and practically running my way to the beach. I liked the rain, because to me, it had always felt as if it washed away my worries and negativity. Much to my joy, the restless sea had brought many tiny treasures to the beach. I found a lot of seaweed and seashells, a few oddly coloured grasses and a bit of wood. I had been about to go to the cafe on Sprout Island, when I saw a dark silhouette sitting on the wet sand, the rain pouring down on him. Curious, I came a little closer and found out it was the Sunshine Islands' very own cowboy. At a careful pace, I approached him from behind and held my umbrella over his head. Irritated, he looked up.

"You'd better go inside and put on some dry clothes," I said, eying his soaked clothing.

"I don't need your help," he snapped and averted his gaze to the rainy horizon. Hurt, I bit the inside of my cheek, but stayed put.

"You will catch a cold, y'know," I tried again after a few minutes.

"Mind your own damn business and go away," he growled. Hesitating, I stood there, doubting whether or not I should leave. I didn't want to leave him in the pouring rain, but apparently he preferred to be alone right now. I must have stood there for another five minutes before he said something again. Although 'saying' isn't really the right word.

"I said, go away!" he shouted, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. Startled, I took a few steps back. I had wanted to yell back that he shouldn't be such an idiot, staying in the rain like that, but the words had gotten stuck somewhere half-way my throat. I bit my lower lip, looked once more at his silhouette and left the beach.

* * *

Puzzled, I went the the café, the place I originally had wanted to go to before I encountered the rather moody cowboy. I was surprised to see Mirabelle sitting at one of the tables, drinking a cup of coffee and even more surprised when she invited me to come and sit with her.

"Is something wrong, dear?" she inquired after I had ordered a cup of tea.

"No," I lied, sipping my warm tea.

"I can tell by just looking at your face." I could feel my cheeks flush and I bit my lower lip again, while Mirabelle studied my face over the rim of her cup.

"I… ran into Vaughn at the beach," I confessed and Mirabelle nodded, encouraging me to continue, "He seemed upset." Mirabelle sipped her coffee and an uncomfortable silence fell as Mirabelle slowly finished her coffee while I reluctantly drank my tea before it got cold.

"You know what date it is today?" Mirabelle questioned out of the blue. I blinked.

"Spring 10th. Why?"

"That date holds a sorrowful meaning to Vaughn," she answered. I waited for her to continue, but she didn't and changed the subject.

"You might want to try bringing him some porridge. It's his favourite and he skipped breakfast this morning," she smiled. I finished my tea, thanked her for her advise and stood up.

"Good luck," she called after me.

* * *

Nick greeted me from behind the counter when I came in, the small bell above the door ranging happily.

"How did the noodles turn out?" he questioned.

"They weren't half bad," I admitted and he grinned smugly.

"Do you happen to have a recipe for porridge?" I asked.

"Porridge? Sure." He pulled out the note block he often used to remember the orders, scribbled down the ingredients and the method of preparation, teared the piece of paper off the note block and handed it to me. I scanned the ingredients quickly and irritation dawned on me when I realised I didn't have any rice. And neither did Chen.

"Nick?" I asked in my sweetest voice. He raised an eyebrow.

"Could I perhaps place a special order?"

* * *

For the second time that day, I went to the beach, with my yellow raincoat on, my shoes soaked by the rain, my brightly coloured umbrella and a bowl of porridge. I must have looked like a total idiot, but I didn't care. At least I looked like the happy kind of idiot, unlike a certain person on the beach. This time I didn't put any effort in hiding my presence and just walked up to him. He must have heard me coming, because he turned around and glared daggers at me. I just smiled and handed him the bowl of porridge. For a moment he looked utterly confused at the bowl.

"It's your favourite, isn't it?" Uninvited, I sat down next to him, my umbrella shielding both of us from the rain. He nodded, a light blush on his cheeks, and took the spoon I gave him. A silence fell as he ate the porridge I had given him, I twisted a strand of hair around my finger and the rain pounded on the umbrella. When he finished his porridge, he set the bowl down beside him, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and muttered something that sounded like 'thanks'. I had wanted to do a little dance of triumph, but resisted it.

"You're welcome," I muttered on my turn and another silence fell.

"If you ever… you know, wanna talk about it," I tried, "You know where to find me, right?" He nodded, a weak smile on his face. I smiled back.

"I should get back to work," he stated before getting to his feet. He extended his hand to help me get up, which I gladly took.

I smiled broadly when he waved me goodbye before disappearing behind Lanna's house.

* * *

As soon as I got home, I heard the phone ringing impatiently. I quickly picked it up and was just saying 'Chelsea speaking' when my dad cut me off.

"You were supposed to call yesterday." I had already opened my mouth to say something in my defense when I realised he was right and shut my mouth again.

"Sorry, dad," I mumbled. I heard him sigh.

"Just… just don't do it again. How are you anyway, Chels?" I frowned, confused by the sudden change of his tone.

"I'm fine. I harvested my first turnips this week," I proudly told him.

"That's great, Chels, that's great," he answered and both of us remained silent for a moment.

"I'll call you Saturday again?" I offered.

"Yeah, Saturday is fine. Just don't forget it."

* * *

The weather had cleared up the next day and even the sun was shining. I had just finished emptying my backpack in the shipping bin when Julia walked up to me. Which was odd because the only time I ever talked to her was when trespassing her on the beach. I curiously raised an eyebrow and closed the shipping bin.

"Hey," she greeted me.

"Hi," I answered, aware of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"So… what have you been up to?" She asked.

"Not much," I replied and a silence followed. After a few moments she broke it.

"What I actually wanted to say is… Good job with handling my cousin yesterday." I nodded and smiled.

"Thanks." She nodded too, smiled back.

* * *

_* This happens in the game too, in one of Natalie's heartevents. It doesn't make sense if the titles are English, but the game is originally Japanese, which you can't read upside down as easily._

_EDIT: I picked up a book at the library and edited the first paragraph of the chapter 1: the early symptoms and diagnosis are now more realistic._


	5. Staying the night

**Chapter 5**

It had been a little more than a week since I ran into Vaughn on a rainy morning at the beach and I hadn't had any opportunities to see him since then. I regretted that. Not that I would know what to say to him, but, I hate to admit it, I just wanted to see him. Quite badly. Natalie had been kind enough to inform me about his status as 'most antisocial being on earth' and for unknown reasons(?), I wanted to get rid of that status. After the incident at the Diner, I thought - no, knew- he deserved much better than that and he just needed a few more firm pushes in the right direction. Though I was aware of the fact he would never be as social as Lanna for example, whom I still remembered for her bone crushing hugs.

A few days ago, I had told my parents of my plan to chop wood to be able to purchase a chicken coop as soon as possible, but they had objected strongly against it. Chopping wood would be too exhausting for me and bring medical complications I didn't need right now. In the end they offered to sponsor me a little and now I had almost enough money saved up to buy one. By the time I would have enough, it would be Wednesday and that would give me a nice reason to stop by at the animal shop. Not that I needed an excuse to go there, but I felt more comfortable with one. (Made me feel less like a stalker).

Enough about the past, back to the present. At that very moment, I was in a bad mood, barging through the mud in search for coloured grasses and other more or less valuable items in the pouring rain. Not a very appealing activity, but I didn't have much better to do when it rained. Right then, I despised the rain. I was aware of the fact I was contradicting myself with something I had said earlier on, but circumstances change. After a two hours, I gave up and headed to old man Taro's house to empty my backpack in the shipping bin there. I laughed sourly when I noticed the coloured grasses did not look as colourful as they usually did, because they were as plastered with mud as I was. Even my bright yellow raincoat didn't look bright anymore. It was then that my angel opened the door and saved my day.

"You look like crap, y'know," Natalie stated.

"Thank you very much, I'm aware of that fact," I replied wryly.

"You wanna come in for some hot tea and a shower?" She grinned broadly as I gladly accepted her offer and came in.

"You might wanna take those shoes of yours off," Natalie commented. I looked down at my boots and couldn't agree with her any more. I was just losing up my shoelaces when Natalie's considerate mother, Felicia, got me in her sight. With graceful movements, she more or less floated over to me and dropped a soft towel on my head.

"Dear!" she exclaimed, "You look as if you've been shipwrecked!" My red-haired friend let out a few snickers as her mother helped me out of my raincoat, shoved me in the bathroom, disappeared and returned only seconds later with a pile of neatly folded cloths to dump them in my arms. She quickly pointed out to me where the soap and everything was, turned the faucet open to fill the bath and left me dumbfounded with a towel on my head in their big bathroom. It was at least thrice the size mine was, which didn't mean as much as you would expect if you knew that my bathroom was basically a closet in which they put sanitary instead of coat hangers. But I appreciated the space very much.

I slowly peeled off my cold, wet and with mud stained clothes, removed my bandanna and wig and stepped into the water. At first it had felt as if it was boiling hot, but after a while I realised my body had just been really cold. I turned off the water and slowly slouched under the warm water until it nearly reached my nose. I was just blowing bubbles under water when someone knocked loudly on the bathroom door.

"The Islands will be struck by a typhoon tomorrow!" Natalie shouted from the other side of the door and my eyes instantly widened. A_… typhoon?!_The only times I had ever witnessed a typhoon was on the television, when either watching a documentary or the news.

"Grandpa thinks you should stay for the night," she shouted again, "Are there preparations we need to do at your ranch?"

"Uh… Could you check if all windows are closed, lock the door and um… get my toothbrush?" I asked just as loudly.

"Where's the key?"

"In the mail box!" I shouted back, slightly embarrassed by the stupidity of my hiding place. At least I was original and didn't hide it underneath a flower pot like everyone else.

When I heard someone slam what I assumed to be the front door shut, I sunk back into the warm water. 'I hope my potatoes don't get ripped out of the ground. They were growing so well,' I sulked, trying to imagine the possible consequences of a typhoon.

After about half an hour, I got out of the bath, toweled my clean skin dry and dressed myself. The clothes were a little bit too big for me and fell loosely around my frame. I had already concluded the clothes were Natalie's; probably an inside-joke of Felicia.* I quickly rinsed my wig, dried it carefully and put it on, followed by my beloved red bandanna. (Which was still dirty, but that seemed unimportant to me).

When I entered the living room, I was surprised to see a damping teapot, my tooth brush and a sandwich on the table.

"I made you lunch," Felicia told me, smiling and gesturing to the sandwich, but aiming a look of disapproval at my bandanna at the same time. I smiled, thanked her and sat down next to Natalie on the couch.

"Did you already have lunch?" I asked her, while Felicia disappeared into the kitchen.

"While you were lying with your lazy ass in the bath tub," she snickered.

"Thanks for waiting," I muttered under my breath while pouring tea in my cup.

"Any time," she replied, while handing me the cup with sugar cubes.

"Did you make the tea?" I inquired, holding a sugar cube. She nodded. Demonstratively I dropped five cubes in my cup.

* * *

Just because I stayed over, Felicia had put the effort in baking a cheese fondue for dinner. It tasted delicious. The only thing I disliked about dinner was Elliot who couldn't help but stare at me every now and then. Until his face contorted with pain and he rubbed his shin while muttering something inaudible under his breath. I told myself to thank Natalie later, even though Felicia looked annoyed in her general direction.

That night I would sleep on a spare matres in Natalie's room. The first thing I noticed when I came in, was that the room was awfully pink. When I mentioned it, Natalie shrugged and muttered something about 'nothing wrong with pink'. Together we dragged the matres from the attic to her bed room. At least, we _should have _dragged it. But Natalie's way was much faster, easier and more fun. No, we didn't. Oh, yes. We glided on the matres down the stairs, squealing like little kids and nearly running Natalie's brother over, who had to dive aside and gained several bruises in the progress. After that we gathered some blankets and a pillow for me before returning to our home base, still laughing about it. I didn't remember having much fun as I had that night in the past two to three years. It felt as if we were thirteen again.

When it was time to get at least dressed in our pajamas, I realised that I had forgotten mine, while I remembered my tooth brush. I was occupied feeling stupid when Natalie threw something in my direction. I managed to catch it and looked at it surprised.

"Pajamas. Pink ones." I raised my eyebrows.

"Nothing wrong with pink," Natalie repeated and pursed her lips slightly.

"Thanks, Nat." She nodded before closing the (yellow!) curtains and turning her back towards me to change. I did the same and carefully removed my bandanna and shirt, before taking off any other garments. Just like her clothes, the pajamas had been about a size or two too big, but they were soft and comfortable. After we got dressed in our PJ's, Natalie plumped down on her bed and patted the place next to her. I followed her example and she grinned at me.

"What?" I innocently asked.

"Wanna play truth or dare?" I studied her face for a moment and decided she was the kind of person who would dare you to do the craziest things she could think of, but who would never push you to do them if you really didn't want to. Unless you were, of course, her brother.

"I'm in," I grinned back.

* * *

_* In case you didn't get it, if you play as the female character in Harvest Moon, Felicia has the tendency to tell you all the time you are just as cute as her daughter Natalie._

_An extra long chapter, because I won't be able to write again until Thursday. Which means I'll have the next chapter finished and published on either Friday, Saturday or Sunday. Depending on my amount of precious spare time. Don't blame me. I'm innocent. Blame the teachers with their exams!_

_Please leave your thoughts, comments, critiques and praises in the review section below!_  
_I'll give you a cookie if you do._


	6. What if

**Chapter 6**

Giggling and squealing, we sat there in the middle of the night in Natalie's bed room, sharing secrets and distributing embarrassing dares. I had already informed Natalie that I hadn't had my first kiss yet and fetched us some drinks in merely my undies. On my turn I had made Natalie tell me everything about her past and present love interests – turned out that the current object of her affections liked purple – and had her prank call a certain doctor Trent from Mineral Town, to tell him her brother was about to give birth. (He didn't think it was very amusing, although Natalie was having a fit of laughter.)

By the time it was two o'clock, we were lying on the bed rather than sitting and sleep began to get to us.

"Fruuf-for-der?" Natalie inquired, her voice muffled by the pillow she was lying face down on. I snickered.

"Truth. Because I'm too tired to undress again and go downstairs," I answered, glancing at Natalie, who chose to ignore it and was lying on her back now to be more audible.

"Uh… if you," she started, making something up as she went, "Um, if you… had like, one more day to live, what would you do?" Although such questions weren't uncommon in games like the one we were playing, I was completely speechless. Upset even. My mouth felt dry and my throat felt throttled. In fact, I was barely aware of Natalie waving her hand up and down in front of my face, a worried expression on her face.

"You okay?" she asked, frowning. I shook my head for a moment and rubbed my sleepy eyes.

"Yeah… I'm fine. I just… dozed off for a second. Perhaps we should go to sleep," I suggested. She slowly nodded before flashing me a quick smile.

"Perhaps we should, yes," she snickered, "Now, shoo! Get off my bed!" I was snickering too now and ducked off her bed onto the matres that laid next to it. We both crawled underneath our blankets and attempted to go to sleep.

"Chels?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind turning off the light?" I slowly got to my feet, walked over to the light switch, switched it off, tried to return safely to my bed, tripped and crawled once more underneath the comfy blankets.

"Thanks, dear," Natalie mumbled and turned around. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. 'If I had one more day to live, what would I do?' I questioned myself and found it even more difficult to decide what to do with one day than with two years. Would I be content with filling that one day with farm chores like watering the crops and foraging strange grasses and pretty flowers? Would I go home to see my family? Or would I spend my last day doing something noble like volunteer work? Or would I perhaps spend it with Vaughn and Natalie? (Although I wasn't too sure the two got along at all.) Would Vaughn even want to spend it with me? All those questions flashed through my head at the same time and I rubbed my temples. If I was already short on time with two years, how would I manage one day? I rolled on my side so I would be facing Natalie's bed. A soft snoring was heard from underneath her blankets and I smiled.

"Nat," I told myself rather than Natalie quietly, "If I had one more day to live, I would drag you to the airport, take the first flight to France and we would visit Paris together. We would shop 'till we dropped, climb the Eiffel tower, take hundreds – no thousands – of crazy pictures and… and drink tea on a terrace so ridiculously expensive that you have to pay extra if you want sugar in your tea." I smiled again when I heard Natalie turn around again, mumbling something barely audible in her sleep. Teasingly, I softly asked her to repeat what she said. At first it seemed as if she didn't hear me, but then she mumbled a soft 'I'd do the same for you,' before she drifted off to sleep again. I fell asleep soon after that, a small smile plastered on my face.

The next morning we were woken up by the brute force of nature, around ten o'clock. Or rather, _I _was woken up. Somehow Natalie managed to sleep through it. For a brief moment, I considered waking her up with a splash of cold water, but decided against it. There wasn't anything she had to do today anyway and might as well enjoy the extra hours of sleep. I peeked through the yellow curtains to witness the storm outside and decided I should worry about my house, rather than my potatoes. I shivered and got dressed in the cloths Felicia had given me the day before to go downstairs.

"'Ey, Missy! You finally 'wake?" old Taro inquired. He sat in a comfortable chair in the living room, his feet resting on a stool and his cane by his side.

"Eh, yes. I usually get up whenever I hear my alarmclock, but I left it at the ranch," I explained, scratching the back of my head.

"Ah… And how's that granddaughter of mine? She still fast asleep?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I figured a few extra hours of sleep wouldn't hurt." Taro nodded, satisfied with my report.

My stomach announced it was time for breakfast and growling softly, so I walked over to the kitchen. I was rather surprised to see that their kitchen was very much like mine; not too big, not too small and very simple. The house's chef-cook, Felicia, was intent upon slicing the freshly baked bread when I entered the kitchen and turned around.

"Good morning," she smiled, "Did you sleep well?" I nodded and smiled back.

"It's been a while since I got to get up so late." Felicia chuckled softly.

"Farm life isn't exactly easy, is it?" I shook my head.

"But it's worth it," I told her. She smiled again and changed the subject.

"Would you please wake up Natalie and Elliot? I made the three of you breakfast."

"Three?" She nodded.

"My father and I already had breakfast at six thirty in the morning. The old man is incapable of getting up any later than six o'clock." She sighed, perhaps slightly disappointed she didn't get to get up late. I went back upstairs to wake the siblings. First I went to Natalie's room to steal her pillow, then I went to Elliot's to throw the pillow at him. I missed and went back to Natalie's room to get my own pillow, only to find out that Natalie had already taken possession of it. I stole her pillow once more and visited Elliot again. This time I hit. Sadly, both of them seemed immune to my actions – Natalie simply continued to sleep without a pillow and Elliot threw the pillow back – so I decided to play it a little dirty. (Although 'dirty' might not seem the right word, literally seen.)

The cold water turned out to be very effective, although I might have wanted to ensure my own safety better, seeing the chaos that ensued. A grumpy Natalie chased me in her pajamas through the entire first floor yelling at me, while a sleepy Elliot shouted at us to keep it down and threw a pillow out of his room, which happened to hit Natalie, who happened to have zero tolerance for such acts of violence in the 'early' morning. But at least both of them were awake now.

Much to my relief, breakfast had been much more peaceful than waking the siblings up. The stressful progress of awakening might have exhausted them too much to quarrel. We sat at the kitchen table quietly, eating our breakfast, while the storm raged outside.

It had been in the late afternoon when I was playing Monopoly with Natalie, old Taro, who happened to be particularly good at the game, and Elliot. Without an apparent reason, I had gotten a nosebleed. Felicia had been kind enough to help me and instructed me to blow my nose softly, pinch the bridge of my nose and bend my head a little. It wasn't until she mentioned that the dry air inside the house might have caused it that I realised I had forgotten my medicines.

I suddenly felt very nauseous.

* * *

_Will Chelsea's potatoes survive the typhoon? Will the siblings ever forgive Chelsea for waking them up the way she did? Did old Taro win the game of Monopoly? And above all, what will happen next?_

_I know that I should have been studying the fast three days, but what I can say? I couldn't resist! Writing has somehow become a part of my daily routines.  
As for my exams, I think I did fairly well. Except for chemistry, I think I totally blew that. But I suspect I'm not the only one, so that makes me feel less stupid. _

_Written under influence of 'If today was your last day' by Nickelback. The lyrics fit so well, it's almost scary. Check it out. :)_


	7. Strawberries and soap

**Chapter 7**

That evening I was very restless. Restless and nauseous. I had refused to have dinner, but Felicia had sit down to talk to me. She had told me not to worry too much about my nosebleed, because it's usually very innocent. It just meant that the mucous membrane in your nose was a little damaged, which happens quite easily because it's so sensitive. Then she persuaded me to have dinner anyway, because it'd only make me feel better. Although I would have bet anything on it that it must have tasted great, to me the spaghetti had been bland and I didn't eat much of it. (Taro told me to be strong, like a real rancher, hang in there and plant lots of crops tomorrow.)

Natalie hadn't said much to me after our game of Monopoly and Elliot had said nothing to me at all. Although it wasn't my fault he was afraid of blood and nearly passed out, I still felt bad for him. If I could have, I would have warned him to take cover or something. (Or tell him to just close his eyes and don't be such a sissy, like Natalie advised me to.)

* * *

I was just brushing my teeth in the bathroom when Natalie came in. She leaned against the door pilar, crossed her arms and observed me, with a frown on her face. I continued brushing my teeth, counting the seconds in my head. If you wanted to brush your teeth well, you had to brush them for at least hundred eighty seconds, my mom had once told me. I was at seventy eight when I couldn't bear her observance any more, stopped brushing and spit out the toothpaste in the sink.

"Something wrong?" She tried to ask it just as casually as I had done when I had asked her about Vaughn while organizing books. She failed, just like I did back then.

"What makes you think so?" I looked at her reflexion in the mirror.

"I don't think so, I know so," she corrected me sharply. I turned around and leaned against the sink, mirroring her body language. I didn't cross my arms, though.

"I'm a little upset I forgot my medicines," I admitted, hoping she wouldn't ask any further and hoping she would at the same time. She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," she said and thought for a bit. "Are you on the contraceptive pill?" She asked. Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Contraceptive pill?" I repeated.

"I read somewhere that most women who forget to take their pill get nauseous and a little emotional," she explained. I wondered where she got the knowledge from, but decided not to ask about it. Because I didn't really know what to say at that moment, a short silence squeezed itself between us, but I eventually broke the silence with a thoughtful 'No, I'm not on the pill.' She nodded slowly, waiting for further clarification, which I didn't give.

"Is it bad that you forgot your medicines?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, "I hope not." She merely nodded and detached herself from the door pilar to hug me. She smelled like strawberries, fresh ones, and soap.

"If there's ever something you wanna talk about…" she whispered, "Don't hesitate." I nodded. Tomorrow we would pretend this never happened.

* * *

The next morning we got up early, because we would have a lot to do. Taro told Natalie and Elliot to clean up the two main islands, and ordered me to get back to farming. So I went to my ranch first to inspect the damage done by the typhoon. Apparently, Natalie had shut all the wooden shutters in front of my windows the day before the typhoon and I was relieved to see that none of my windows were broken. And above all expectations, my potatoes were fine and ready to be harvested. I pulled them out of the earth one by one and stuffed them in my backpack, satisfied with the results of my hard work. When I finished, I emptied my backpack in the shipping bin and went inside. I walked over to the bathroom, opened the cabinet above the sink and took out all the jars filled with pills and tablets. I took one or two from each jar and flushed half of them away with a glass of water. Their bitter taste reminded me of the day the doctor told us to come to the hospital so he could announce I was dying. I took the second half of the medicines, flushed it all away with another glass of water and grimaced. I put everything back in the cabinet, closed it and left the farmhouse.

That day I had bought two bags of new seeds, both turnips and potatoes, planted them and watered them. Although it may not sound like a lot of work, I was completely exhausted. I barely had the energy to return to my farmhouse, open the door and drag myself to bed. As I lay there on my bed, I wondered if I shouldn't call the doctor. I frowned. It had been three weeks since my last blood transfusion*. Perhaps I started off a little too enthusiastic and ate up all the red blood cells or something.

I had been about to get up to walk to the phone when someone knocked on my front door. Three discrete knocks. I got up slowly and reluctantly, walked to the door and opened it. I was pleasantly surprised, and that must have been clearly visible on my face, to find the Sunshine Islands' very own cowboy on my doorstep and felt a gnawing feeling of embarrassment when I realised I must have looked like a mess. I didn't even need a mirror to tell. He didn't mention it, though.

"Hi," I greeted him. He cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Um.. I have a package for you." His voice sounded a bit weird, but I didn't pay much attention to it.

"A package?"

"The captain asked me if I would mind bringing it to you because they were behind schedule or something."

"Oh," I answered and he handed me the package. It had been wrapped up neatly and the address had been written in an even neater manner. It was beyond doubt that it was my mom's handwriting. "Thanks. You wanna come in for a drink?" I asked him, forcing a smile. He looked a little hesitant, but smiled back anyway.

"Perhaps another time," he told me and I nodded.

"I guess I'll see you around." He nodded too and turned around. He waved me goodbye before he left Ranch Island and I waved back with one hand, cradling the package to my chest with the other.

I closed the door, put the package on the kitchen table and started to curiously unwrap it. It held a carton box, with two letters, a lot of jars with I-didn't-know-what-yet and an envelop. I decided to start with the letters first and opened one of them.

____

* * *

_Dear Chelsea,_

_Although we fully support your decisions, sometimes the whole situation drives us insane. Then I make your father get the photo albums from the attic so I can flip through them. Your dad can't stand looking at the pictures, but to me it's very calming. I took a few from the albums and put them in an envelop for you. I hope it works calming to you too._

_We miss you and love you dearly,_  
_Your mom_

_P.s. Don't forget to call! Your dad can't stand waiting for your phone call._

* * *

I smiled, although the tears stung behind my eyes and picked up the envelop with photos. I sat down on my bed, opened it slowly, almost ceremonial, and flipped through the photos.

One by one, I flipped through them. They all were memories. Precious memories.  
But I flipped through them as if they were the holiday pictures of a stranger.

* * *

_* Because the blood structure of leukemia patients is abnormal and very instable, they need bloodtransfusions. For example, if you don't have enough blood platelets, you bruise very easily and have occasional nosebleeds. Wounds take very long to stop bleeding or don't stop at all and need to be treated at the hospitall. If you don't have enough red blood cells, you get tired really quick because you are constantly lacking oxygen._

_In some way I am proud of this chapter, and in another way I can't help but think something is a little... off. I can't tell what yet, but as soon as I figure it out, I'll fix it!_


	8. Helping the playful pirate

**Chapter 8**

Today I had received a package from my parents. It contained two letters, one from my dad and one from my mom, an envelop with pictures from my youth and several jars with, what turned out to be, vitamins. My dad had done some research on the internet and found out that (some researcher believe) vitamins help your body recover from chemotherapy. I put the letters and photos in the drawer of my nightstand and added the vitamins to my collection in the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom. I took a tablet from each jar before I put them in the cabinet among all my other jars. When I was finished, I took all the tablets and flushed them all away with a glass of water. Vitamins. Yummie.

A few months ago, my mom had bought me a box with all the days of the week on it. You could put all the medicines for all seven days of the week in it so you wouldn't forget any. I never used it because I found the thought of having to take all those pills and tablets again the day after depressing.

The next day I felt considerably better when I woke up and made a note to myself to never again underestimate the powers of a good night of sleep combined with vitamins. I got dressed in my working cloths and had noodles for breakfast. When I went outside to water my crops, I noticed it was still surprisingly quiet outside. You could even hear the early birds chirp and the bugs buzz. I watered my crops and quickly went to town. On my way I resisted to stop by at Mirabelle's animal shop for a chat and crossed the bridge to Sprout Island.

* * *

I heard the bell above the door chime happily when I entered Gannon's shop and I looked around the shop curiously. I had only been here once before when I came to introduce myself.

"Mornin'," Gannon greeted me with a gruff voice from behind the counter, "You're up early." I nodded and smiled politely.

"Good morning."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"I want to order a chicken coop, actually," I smiled again, this time not out of politeness. Gannon summed up the prices and I payed for the construction of the coop as well as for the materials. Gannon growled satisfied when he put the gold away in his cash register and told me he'd have the coop done by tomorrow before I left the shop.

Humming happily, I was almost skipping my way back home. I passed Mirabelle's shop once more and held my pace. 'Should I, or shouldn't I go inside?'I asked myself when a tiny voice in the back of my head kicked in. 'You need chicken feed anyway. Might as well get it now,' it snickered mischievously. I agreed with the tiny voice and went inside. Here too, chimed a bell above my head happily to announce my arrival. I saw Vaughn standing in the middle of the shop with his hands tucked in his pockets and Mirabelle standing next to him. As soon as she heard me coming in, she clasped her hands together.

"Chelsea!" she exclaimed, "You have perfect timing!" I couldn't help but notice that Vaughn quietly slapped his forehead.

"I was just asking Vaughn to take care of the animals," she continued, "But because he's so busy it would be nice if someone helped him out. Would you mind?" She smiled kindly. 'Forget about the chicken feed, go for the cowboy!' the tiny voice in my head cheered.

"I don't mind. Besides, it'd be a good lesson for me," I answered. Vaughn opened his mouth to object, but then changed his mind and shut it again. He motioned for me to follow him instead and led me to the large barn behind the shop.

"This is where we keep the animals," he said, stating the obvious. I nodded and looked around. The barn was really large and separated in three areas. A big area for the chickens, another big one for the sheep and cows and a smaller one for the horse. The barn was lightened by large TL-lamps, suspended from the roof.

"I suggest you start with the chickens."

"Um… What do I do?" I asked him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Just take one piece of feed for each chicken from the feed dispenser and put it in the feeder bins." I nodded and went to the chicken area, while he went in the opposite direction, to the horse. I had to giggle when the chickens eagerly gathered at my feet clucking loudly, but they did make my job more difficult, as I didn't want to accidentally step on any of their little feet. I counted eight chickens and put as many feed in the feeder bins. When I finished, I contently dusted off my clothes and climbed over the fence of the chicken area to find Vaughn.

I found him in the sheep and cow area, softly stroking a cow's head as he whispered something inaudible to her. Mentioned cow mooed softly and licked his face with its long pink tongue. I smiled when I heard Vaughn laugh and scold the animal playfully. I leaned over the fence a bit.

"The two of you get along very well, don't you?" He looked up surprised, nodded and smiled back.

"Are you finished already?" he inquired. I nodded proudly.

"You're quicker than I thought," he commented. I took it as a compliment and the cow licked his face once more. He rubbed the saliva off his cheek and gave the cow a warning look.

"I think she demands your undivided attention," I giggled.

"Very funny," He fished his pocket watch from his pocket and checked the time.

"How about you play with the chickens for a bit while I take care of a few more cows?" I nodded.

"Sure."

"We could take a break together when I'm done, if you want." I noticed a light but unmistakable blush on his cheeks and felt my own cheeks glow a bit too.

"Sounds good." I smiled once more before I headed back to the chicken area. I looked over my shoulder and held back a snicker when I saw the cow playfully lick Vaughn's nose. (The look on his face was priceless.)

* * *

I sat on my heels amidst the clucking chickens, softly petting the chicken that had boldly nestled itself on my lap when I heard the fence behind me crack a bit. I turned around, only to find Vaughn casually leaning against it, a sly smile on his face.

"They all seem to like you very much," he snickered when an even bolder chicken jumped onto my head, nearly knocking me over.

"You're just jealous you don't get this much attention," I told him and stuck my tongue out at him. Apart from grinning, he completely ignored my remark and changed the subject.

"Have you ever worked with chickens before?"

"Chickens?" I asked, "No, but I'm planning on getting some this week." He nodded approvingly.

"You might wanna let them outside when the weather is good. But only in fenced areas, or else the wild dogs will get to them." A sour grimace flickered across his face. I pretended I didn't notice.

"Why don't you join me? I don't have enough hands to pet all of them." I smiled when he efficiently jumped over the fence and squatted down in front of me. One of the chickens caught him off-guard and instantly hopped onto his lap, causing him to fall over. His hat fell off his head and another chicken didn't hesitate to nestle itself in it, while yet another jumped onto Vaughn's head, making itself comfortable in his silvery hair. At first I merely snickered, but then I couldn't help myself any longer and laughed out loud. After Vaughn recovered, he had to laugh too, realizing the idioticy of the entire situation. Two idiots sitting on the ground, surrounded by chickens, with chickens as well on their heads as on their laps. I think you could carefully state we got owned by the feathery creatures. (Never again shall we let down our guards in the barn!)

* * *

By the time we finished petting the chickens, it was already eleven o'clock. The sun was shining brightly outside and we were quickly tempted to go sit in the shadows of the trees behind the shop. Vaughn lay comfortably on his back in the grass, while I leaned against the tree trunk. A soft wind made the leaves above us rustle softly and the serenity seemed almost surreal to me.

"Hey, Vaughn?" I asked quite suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you only two days a week on the Sunshine Islands?"

"It's my job," he mumbled.

"Don't you ever, you know… wanna settle down?" I questioned. He slowly got upright and turned around to face me.

"Do you remember being a little girl and wanting a good job, a family, dog included, and a nice house to live in when you were grown up?" I nodded slowly, not understanding where he wanted to go.

"Well, I wanted to see the world," he told me, and a playful grin appeared on his face, "I wanted to be pirate."

"A pirate?" I snickered, and held back a laugh when I realized the costume would look actually look good on him*. Vaughn suspiciously raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think that's funny?"

"As a matter of fact, I think it's very amusing," I told him and tried to look as convincing as I could while biting back another snicker.

"At least I was original, miss American Dream," he retorted, quasi offended. He stood up and extended his hand towards me. I smiled when I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. He smiled back.

"Break's over," he announced.

* * *

_* To get an idea what it might look like, look up "Say 'arr', Vaughn" by Supermellowoman on DeviantArt!_

_...Doesn't he look sexy?_

_An extra long chapter because you're all awesome for reading the author's notes. :)  
After chapter 7 was added, this story has crossed the 10,000 words, making it an official long story to me! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!_


	9. Hope is original

**Chapter 9**

The next day, when my chicken coop would be finished, I was brutally woken up someone banging loudly on the door. I reluctantly slipped out of my bed and opened the door, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"G'morning!" A gruff voice greeted. I rubbed my eyes once more and realized that the giant on my doorstep was Gannon. I nodded politely.

"Good morning," I replied.

"I just stopped by to tell you the chicken coop you requested is finished. You should check it out soon." I smiled.

"I will, thank you."

"Oh, by the way, Taro's just itching to explain the principles of holding chickens to you. Be prepared," he grinned. I nodded slowly and closed the door when Gannon turned around to leave.

* * *

When I left my house a little later, after taking a short but cold shower and having breakfast, I was surprised to find the little old man already waiting for me outside. He frowned impatiently.

"So, lil' miss! What took you so long?" he exclaimed. "The early worm gets the bird, y'know…" he mumbled.

"Isn't it the bird that gets the worm?" I inquired, almost giggling by just the mere thought of enormous mutated worms chasing birds. Taro thought this over for a bit.

"No. That'd be ridiculous. Now, come on, let's teach you the fine art of taking care of poultry." With those words, he left me utterly confused on my doorstep, while he crossed my field at a his own slow pace, approvingly poking my crops with his cane as he did so. As soon as I recovered, I quickly chased after him.

"Ya see that thing over there, missy?" he pointed at the 'thing' with his cane, "That'd be the feed dispenser. You take the feed from there…"

"…And put it in the feeder bins. One piece of feed for each chicken," I proudly added. He nodded approvingly.

"Did Mirabelle's cousin teach ya that?" I nodded. "A quiet, but nonetheless good fella. A fine man, indeed…" he seemed to mumble it to himself rather than me, so I didn't comment on it. Suddenly he snapped out of it.

"Oh, yes. Right. I was teaching you the fine art of taking care of chickens. Whenever the weather is good, you can let your chickens outside, but only…" He didn't finish his sentence on purpose and gave me a look of anticipation.

"…In fenced areas?" The old man laughed loudly and gave me a friendly, but hard smack on my shoulder. I rubbed my shoulder in pain, while he left the coop 'to fetch something'. The first thing I heard when he came back was a soft chirping. Taro smiled broadly when he handed me the little yellow ball of fuzz.

"A lil' gift to get you started," he explained. "You should name it." I nodded slowly while petting the chick softly.

"_Elpis*_," I eventually said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever floats your boat, I guess." He slapped me on my shoulder once more and I cringed. "At least you're original!"

After Taro left, I cuddled Elpis a little more and watered my crops, which had just sprouted. Each time I saw my crops' first leaves sprout, I couldn't help but feel delighted. Perhaps it was some sort of misplaced motherly feeling, because I would never have kids. Or it was just the natural joy of new life. As soon as I finished tending my crops, I headed to the town.

* * *

With a strange feeling in my stomach, I entered the shop, accompanied by the jingling of the bell above the door. Mirabelle smiled kindly from behind the counter and I nodded politely.

"Good morning, dear!" She greeted me.

"'Morning."

"Are you here for some chicken feed?" I nodded dumbly and she waved nonchalantly with her hand, as if fanning my dumbness away. "Vaughn told me you'd be stopping by one of these days," she explained and I smiled. "How much did you want?"

"Just enough to get through the week for now," I answered, intending to get more feed when Vaughn was around. She nodded and scribbled it down on a slip of of paper.

"Julia and I will bring it over to your ranch when we close the shop." I was about to object when she whispered a 'just because it's you' and crossed her arms stubbornly. I sighed and thanked her cordially before I left the shop, smiling brighter than I did when I entered it.

I was about to cross the bridge to Ranch Island when saw a flash of red hair behind the window's of Taro's house. I checked the time on my watch and raised my eyebrows in surprise. It was only two o'clock in the afternoon, so I had plenty of time left before dinner to pay Natalie a visit. I knocked politely on the door and got a little startled when Elliot pulled open the door instead of the red head I expected to.

"Um, hi," I greeted him awkwardly.

"Hi," he replied, just as awkward.

"Is Natalie home?" I asked.

"She's out on the beach with a friend of hers," he answered plainly, before shutting the door in my face. Perhaps he expected someone else, just like I rumors went that he had a thing for Julia, but I quietly doubted that he'd ever have the guts to ask her out.

As soon as I reached the beach, I saw them sitting on the pier, my friend, the red haired girl with the green blouse and yellow apron and another girl with long black hair and a lavender coloured bow that held the strands of hair out of her face. She wore a lilac dress, a subtle dark purple bow and a pink cardigan. I waved wildly to catch their attention and as soon as I did, Natalie waved back just as enthusiastically. The girl next to her waved her hand a little insecure, while Natalie gestured me to get over there. I watched Natalie get up and help the black haired girl to her feet while I jogged at a rather slow pace to the pier. Natalie shook her head exaggerative in disappointment when I arrived.

"I'd thought you would be faster."

"There'd better be someone dead before I run on full speed," I commented.

"You're that lazy?"

"It's called saving energy. Isn't that what all those commercials of the government tell you to do?"

"They tell you to save _electric_ energy!" I shrugged and the black haired girl giggled softly, distracting both of us from our discussion.

"Oh, right!" I exclaimed, "I haven't introduced myself yet. Hi, I'm Chelsea." I smiled and she did too.

"Sabrina." We shook hands formally.

"I haven't seen you around here before, actually. Are you from out of town?"

"I live in the mansion next to the inn. I've been living there for quite some time now, actually." I must have been looking pretty dumb right then. I really didn't remember seeing her before.

"She is inside most of the time," Natalie interrupted, wrapping her arm loosely around Sabrina's shoulders and grinning playfully. "But I'm changing that."

"Whenever I'm inside, I'm painting. And as soon as I start, I lose track of time rather quickly," Sabrina explained, a light blush on her cheeks. I raised an eyebrow.

"If you're inside, then what do you paint?"

"Still life's," she told me proudly.

"Isn't an alive life much more interesting to paint?" I questioned. She bit her lower lip thoughtfully.

"I've actually never tried that. But it's probably fun." She smiled.

"Taro gave me a chick today, actually. If you want, you can come over some time to paint it," I offered. Natalie gasped loudly.

"For real? I thought you were too busy cuddling your vegetables to even think about getting a chicken," she snickered. I hit the back of her head playfully.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly as I said."

"Says the one who can't even grow a daisy."

"I can! It just dies… rather quickly."

"It's not supposed to die rather quickly!"

"Says who?"

"Says I."

"Says who, except for you."

"The Daisy Society."

"Says who, except for you and The Daisy Society."

"Taro probably thinks so too. Can't you just exclude the entire planet while you're at it?"

"Except for the entire planet and anything living on it."

"No comment."

Although we didn't know eachother very well yet, I was sure of it that Sabrina and I could be good friends. And I was convinced that Natalie would never get her hands on the idea to exclude ET**. Although I wasn't too sure if he knew that daisies weren't supposed to die quickly.

* * *

_* Elpis means 'Hope' in ancient Greek. Unlike the ranch name, this name is of importance to the story. Don't ask me why Chelsea knows ancient Greek. Let's just say she is very clever. Or owns a little book with baby names or such._

_** ET, the alien dude with the flying bicycle. Everyone should know him. If you don't, google it! It's your duty as a resident of planet earth!_

_I'm not sure when I will update again. After lots of tests and exams, I still managed to squeeze this chapter out of my brain. (Sorry it's short!) I'll try to have another chapter up by Thursday next week! If you can't bear to wait that long, be sure to leave a review. It works miracles. It really does. Keeps a writer motivated and inspired!_

_Please check out the poll I put up on my profile. I'd like to hear all of your opinions!_


	10. Sinking in a daze

**Chapter 10**

With a bruise that bad, it couldn't be either denied or postponed any longer, I realised when I examined my painful shoulder. At first I decided to call doctor Trent after I had breakfast, then after I watered the crops, and after that I figured I might as well tend my adorable little yellow ball of fuzz too, before I called him. When I at last dialed the number, it took me up to three times to dial it correctly because my nerves took over and my fingers were shaky.

It turned out there wasn't anything to be anxious about. The doctor was a kind man, but with a very busy schedule. If it were up to his agenda, I would only be able to visit over three weeks. Luckily, he offered to treat me on his free evening. If I left with the ferry of five o'clock in the evening, I was certain to make it to Mineral Town in time he had assured me. But I would have to spend the night there, 'just to be sure'. Although he was a kind man, he should be more honest with himself and acknowledge he was just afraid his patients would die by his hands. I quietly wondered if killing someone who is dying is still considered murder as I looked out of the window. The sky was clouded, just like my mind.

Leaning over the railing, I stared into the distance, watching the Sunshine Island slowly disappear at the horizon. Even though I knew I would come back, it was somewhat saddening sight. But the cool evening wind blowing in my face and the refreshing salty air made up for all of it. Not to mention the magnificent sunset.

Apart from me and a few members of the crew, the entire deck was deserted because most passengers were having dinner at that specific moment at the boat's restaurant. I had had dinner at home, before I left because I hadn't thought the boat would be this big. It had a restaurant, which I already mentioned, about twenty-five rooms, both doubles and singles, an enormous storage for all the luggage and a lot of areas of which I didn't know what they were used for. I must have been standing on the deck by myself for about half an hour when I heard heavy footsteps approach me..

"Chels? What are you doing here?" Shocked, I turned around to confirm my suppositions. Standing in front of me was the one and only cowboy I knew, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his silvery hair waving in the wind.

"Eh. Enjoying the view?" I realised I didn't sound as convincing as I had intended, but it couldn't be helped as the nerves took over and my heart pounded against my chest. Perhaps it isn't exactly the right comparison, but I felt as if I had been caught red-handed with my hand in the biscuit tin. Maybe it was just me, or maybe the suspicious look he gave me did the magic.

"Who is taking care of your little chick while you're gone?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I am. I'll be back tomorrow to feed and tend her in time." I narrowed my eyes too. How did he dare to question my devotion? "And if I don't make it in time, Julia will." I was about to say something else in my defence when the strictness slid off his face. I sighed in relief.

"Then it's alright." I blinked surprised and nodded dumbly. "You're headed to Mineral Town, right?" I raised an eyebrow. He kept surprising me today.

"How did you know?" A mischievous grin spread across his face.

"Mineral Town is this the only stop of this boat because it's already such a long ride as it is."

"Oh." He leaned over the railing too now. Every now and then I stole a few glances. I couldn't help it as his eyes were too intriguing to resist. Eventually he spoke up again.

"So what's your business in Mineral Town?" My heart skipped a beat and I panicked. Did he know? No, he couldn't. It was impossible. Impossible-impossible-impossible it echoed in my head. Did I want him to know? It might be comforting to tell someone. Shared hurt hurts less, they say. No. I didn't want him to know. Under no circumstances. No. Just no. I didn't want things to change. Because no matter how you turn it, everything changes when you're dying and I didn't want things to change between us. Not now and not later. I bit my lower lip while he curiously studied my face.

"If you don't want to say, that's okay. It's none of my business anyway." But didn't he have the right to know? One day, he will knock on the door of my farmhouse and realise I am not there anymore. And think I abandoned him. Without ever telling him I would leave. He would feel betrayed and never want to see me again.

Why did it have to be so complicated? I cleared my throat.

_Was it complicated at all?_

"No, it's okay. You have the right to know. I want you to know." I could've sworn my voice trembled just as much as my suddenly unsteady legs seemed to do. There weren't any words to describe what I felt when I told him. I felt too many things to distinguish which was which. I felt sadness, relief, anxiety, disappointment, confusion and many others. But above all, regret. Yes, I finally told him and I regretted it the moment I did. Perhaps it was because of the look on his face, from which all blood seemed to be drained. His eyes were widened while he merely stared at me. I wanted to say something comforting, but I couldn't think of anything appropriate. 'I'm sorry for dying,' wouldn't do and it was still too early for 'Sorry for your loss'.

"I'm sorry," I eventually said. I could tell he was upset by the way he shouted at me.

"You're sorry? That's all you have to say?" He uttered a dry, void laugh. "When were you really planning to tell me? Who did you think you were fooling?"

_Me._ I was fooling me, I realised. Without even knowing it.

"When was I supposed to tell you?" I recovered quickly, wondering for a split moment if there had been a better moment. I decided the answer was 'no'. There was never a good time to invite someone to pick a nice card for the funeral.

"I don't know! Sooner! Don't you think this is kind of late, Chelsea?" By this point I was starting to get angry as well. This was one of the hardest things I had ever done, and he was scrutinizing my timing?

"Like when we met? 'Hi, my name is Chelsea, you can consider me dead. Nice meeting you?" I mocked him.

"Any moment would've been right!" A blush of anger started to form itself on his cheeks and under different circumstances I would have thought it was cute. I huffed.

"Like now?" I retorted. He had been about to shout something back at me when he realised I was right. Once more, I felt a pang of regret as his face softened and he looked away.

"I'm going back to my room. Please, Chels. Stay away from me." He turned around and walked away, as if he had been here all by himself and decided to go back inside because it was too cold to stay out. I wanted the time to freeze, so he would stop in his tracks. I would walk over to him, hug him tightly, tell him I was sorry and that I would make everything up to him. But the time didn't freeze and he disappeared out of my sight. Once again I was alone on the deck, the water on my cheeks as salty as the water the ship floated in. (Even though it felt as if it were sinking.)

After the incident on the deck, I didn't leave my room until ten o'clock, when I had to brush my teeth in the bathroom, of which the location was unknown to me. After wandering around for a little less than half an hour, I ended up in the restaurant. It was completely empty, with the exception of the barman. I started to feel rather uncomfortable in my pajamas when the bartender winked at me.

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked, while toweling a glass dry. I hesitated for a moment.

"Um. Sure?" He nodded approvingly.

"Fabulous. You see that man in the corner over there? I saw the two of you together earlier and I think he needs a_ little _help getting back to his room." The barman snickered and I suddenly found him extremely unsympathetic.

"Can't you help him? You seem a lot stronger than I do," I tried to persuade him, regretting I agreed to helping him.

"Sorry, miss. I still got a lot of work to do," he motioned to the enormous staples of plates and glasses behind him. I looked around curiously, only to find out that it was a man with soft looking, silvery hair that needed my help. "I think he's still able to stand so you should be alright," the bartender added.

"He would still be able to walk by himself if you hadn't given him that many drinks," I snapped, before I walked over to my friend. He appeared to have fallen asleep on the table, using his arms as pillow. I carefully shook his shoulder.

"Vaughn? Wake up." He reluctantly opened his eyes and groaned. I couldn't tell if it was because he was drunk and hated waking up, or because he was pissed to see me.

"Do you remember what room number you got, Vaughn?" He lazily raised an eyebrow.

"Your room number." He shook his head slowly. I sighed. Brushing my teeth would have to wait a little longer.

_Sorry for the long wait! This chapter really was a bitch to write, not only because I've been really busy, but also because I think it's one of the major chapters in the story. The next chapter may also take a little longer than you're used to, because haven't got a single clue what it's like to be drunk! I think it's a good thing to let it stay like that for a lil' longer, but do any of you guys have a clue?_

_Also, I want to thank all of you once more for hanging around and raising my spirits with the occasional reviews. :)_


	11. Waking up to a headache

**Chapter 11**

"_Vaughn? Wake up." He reluctantly opened his eyes and groaned. I couldn't tell if it was because he was drunk and hated waking up, or because he was pissed to see me._

"_Do you remember what room number you got, Vaughn?" He lazily raised an eyebrow._

"_Your room number." He shook his head slowly. I sighed. Brushing my teeth would have to wait a little longer._

After a thorough and extremely awkward search through his pockets, I had to conclude Vaughn didn't have the keys to his room on him. This meant both good and bad things. The good thing was, he couldn't have locked his room without a key. The bad thing was, we still didn't know his room number because the number was engraved into the key. I frowned and scratched the back of my head while Vaughn blankly stared at me as if I had all the answers, but refused to give them to him. Before outing my last resort, I thought a little longer about it, but gave up. I had only one solution. I sighed. All I had wanted were directions to the bathroom – and instead, I had gotten myself a drunk roommate.

* * *

With a lot of effort, I managed to get Vaughn to his feet, only to conclude that walking gets a bit more difficult when you're under the heavy influence of alcohol. I had actually wanted to let him walk by himself, so I could watch him trip over his own feet occasionally. That would have taught him why you shouldn't drink so much you don't remember how much you've drunk. But when he tripped and just sat there on the floor, completely dumb-founded and amazed at the same time, I didn't have the heart to let him trip anymore. I pulled him to his feet and offered him my shoulder. I found the weight of his arm around my shoulders and his warm breath against my cheek strangely comforting, although the distinct scent of alcohol disturbed me. Walking slowly, we left the ship's restaurant and the very much amused bartender. (If it hadn't been for Vaughn, I would've gone back to stomp on the bartender's big toe.)

After about half an hour, we managed to find my room. I quietly cursed the terrible floor-plan under my breath as I unlocked the door with a firm flick of my wrist. By now, Vaughn had let go of me to show he could walk on his own. I didn't know if he was just playing brave or being stupid.

"Why do you have a key?" he complained.

"Because I didn't leave it in my room like you did," I replied as I pushed the door open.

"But I didn't."

"Then where is it?" For some reason I was a little surprised by the fact everything still looked the way I left it. The dark red curtains closed halfway, my backpack next to the one of the beds and a lopsided painting hanging above the other. My clothes lay scattered through the room and I quickly picked them up to dump them in a corner. (I disliked folding my clothes; it seemed so pointless.) I looked at Vaughn, who still stood in the hallway like a statue.

"What are you waiting for? Come in." He nodded and entered the room.

"This isn't my room," he slowly said.

"No, it isn't." I answered.

"Oh," he remained silent for a moment, thinking this over, "Why can't I go to my room?"

"Because you forgot the keys and your room number."

"Did I?" I sighed and sat down on one of the beds, covering my face with my hands while I leaned on my knees with my elbows. It felt as if all the energy I had had when I helped Vaughn had been drained and flung out of the window. Vaughn sat down next to me and wrapped his arm for no apparent reason around my waist, pulling me close. It was different from when I helped him walk and I felt my cheeks heat up. The warmth of his body slowly seeped through my clothes and I felt my muscles slowly relax while my heart continued to beat against my chest. I could almost count my heartbeats.

"Vaughn, what are you doing?" I managed to say after a few minutes, my cheeks glowing.

"Not leaving you," he muttered. I looked at him confused, only to find out he was on the border of reality and dreams, his eyes already closed. I found the situation ironic and sad at the same time, knowing _I _would be the one leaving _him_. I looked at my hands, folded on my lap. I would be leaving Natalie, Sabrina, Vaughn, Mirabelle, Julia, Taro, Elliot, Felicia, Nick – everyone. I would be leaving my family and my parents. The tears started to sting behind my eyes. Not a single parents should ever, _ever_, have to bury their own child. I took a sharp breath and scolded myself for getting so emotional over three simple words.'Don't cry,' I told myself. I had cried enough. I had enough of crying. I felt the arm around me tighten a bit, and looked up surprised. Vaughn seemed to be asleep, his head leaning against the wall and his mouth slightly open. Hesitant, I laid my hand on the one he had wrapped around my waist. I noticed his hands were quite large, compared to mine. I softly rubbed his hand. It felt kind of rough, because he worked with his hands so much. I liked the feel of it. I slowly entangled my fingers with his and I heard Vaughn mutter something inaudible under his breath. I wasn't sure what he had said, but answered "Good night," before I nestled myself as close to him as I could.

It didn't even occur to me that I could have slept in the other bed.

* * *

The next morning, I was woken up early by warm air tickling my neck. It took me a while to recognise it as someones breath and even longer to remember everything that had happened the day before. The boat, the fight, the keys and yes, my drunk friend. I softly rubbed my temples before I tried to get up. _Tried _because I didn't succeed; a certain someone had possessively swung their arm around my waist and refused to let me go. I decided it wouldn't hurt to let Vaughn sleep a little longer with me in his arms, because I could barely imagine the headaches he would have when he woke up. (And because I found myself rather _enjoying_ the warmth of his body and the feeling of him being near.)

After a while I finally got sick of lying in bed doing nothing and slowly slid out of Vaughn's grip. I collected my toiletries and clothing, and sneaked out of the room to go shower. I was lucky I wasn't the only one who was awake and managed to get my hands on some fine directions to the bathroom. Because it was still early and it would take another hour or two for the boat to arrive at Mineral Town, I took my time and actually showered longer than I would have dared to when I lived at my parents'.

By the time I returned to my room, Vaughn was already awake. He sat on the edge of the bed we had slept in, rubbing his hurting head in vain. He didn't even look up when I entered the room.

"How's your head?" I asked carefully, as I quietly shut the door. He looked up confused and blinked while I walked over to my backpack.

"What are you doing in my room?" He inquired.

"It's my room, actually," I corrected him as I stuffed my pajamas in my bag. He thought this over for a moment, while I removed my pajamas from the bag again to search for my medicines.

"Then what am I doing in _your _room?" He snapped, emphasizing the word 'your'. I finally found my medicines, buried under under my little stack of clean underwear.

"You went out last night, forgot to take your keys with you, got so drunk you couldn't even remember your room number anymore and spend the night in my room," I quickly explained as I opened the bottles with medicine one by one, taking out the tablets and pills I needed. Vaughn looked at me, for the first time since I had entered the room.

"Did we...?" He pointed at himself and me as if his question needed any further clarification. I shook my head.

"No." He sighed in relief and started to rub his temples.

"Want any painkillers for that headache of yours?" I offered. He raised an eyebrow and eyed the collection of colourful pills, tablets and bottles suspiciously. "I got plenty," I joked sourly. He nodded and I fished another bottle out of my backpack.

"So it's true?" He suddenly asked. I frowned and tilted my head. He cleared his throat. "You'll never turn 20."

"Perhaps I will. Although I admit 21 is a long shot. Why?" I screwed the top of the bottle with painkillers lose, took out two tablets and handed them to him. He swallowed them without any water and grimaced.

"I thought it might have been a dream," he admitted. I nodded slowly.

"Perhaps all of it is a dream."

"Perhaps," he answered and a comfortable silence dawned on us. I took a bottle of water out of my bag and flushed away all my medicines and vitamins, two tablets at a time.

"Why did you take over the ranch?"

"Because the Harvest Goddess shoved a once upon a lifetime opportunity in my mailbox," I replied, grinning sheepishly. He nodded and looked at my hands, which were busy screwing each top back on the bottles.

"Why start something you'll never be able to finish?" He frowned, trying to see through my motives.

"Is anything ever finished?" I reflected the question. He shrugged.

"You're about to be finished screwing the tops back on."

"I mean anything that matters," I corrected myself. He shook his head.

"No," he slowly answered. I contently stuffed all my belongings back in my bag and zipped it shut.

"How long does it take for these painkillers to start working? My head is about to split in two."

* * *

_First of all, I proudly present to you... Chapter 11!_

_I don't know how long it has been since I updated, but I have this feeling it has been a looong time. I apologise to you all for that. I have been extremely busy lately with the final tests and exams of this school year and couldn't get a single sensible word onto paper. But, I have been thinking about the story all the time and by now I have thought most of the story out. (Something I should have done before I started writing the story...)_

_I will be busy for another two weeks, but I'll do my best not to let you down!  
Oh, and before I forget, please check out the poll on my profile if you haven't done so yet!_


	12. Give or take

**Chapter 12**

When we at last arrived in Mineral Town, I was almost disappointed. For some reason I had expected it to be a little… larger? I had heard it had a clinic, a winery, a library, a blacksmith and three farms, and as far as I was concerned, the Islands didn't have any of those. I looked up at the dark clouds that gathered above the town and cringed when I heard a loud, rumbling sound emit from the sky. Merely a few seconds later I felt the first raindrops hit my face. I closed my eyes. Cool, refreshing rain. I smiled when I felt Vaughn's hand on my shoulder. He nodded briefly when I looked at him.

"I suggest we go to the inn."

"But I like rain," I objected weakly, as he lead me off to where I assumed to be the Inn.

"Do you have any dry clothes with you?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got my pajamas with me," I grinned triumphantly. Vaughn merely sighed.

* * *

"Do you happen to have a room left?" I politely asked the inn manager, standing on my tiptoes to be able to look properly over the high counter. The man slowly rummaged about some papers on his desk and positioned his reading glasses on the tip of his nose when he found what he had been looking for. I couldn't help but feel like the glasses didn't stroke with the rest of his appearance. His hair and mustache were a bright red and his eyebrows appeared to be frozen in a frown.

"Ah… I'm sorry, miss. All are taken." He took his glasses off and attempted to clean up the mess he'd made on his desk. "You might want to try the library. I'm sure Anna wouldn't hesitate to take you in for a night." I smiled.

"I'll give it a try. Thank you for your help." I was about to leave the inn, when I noticed Vaughn leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his clothes just as soaked as mine.

"You're not staying with strangers," he slowly stated. I pursed my lips and crossed my arms too, suddenly feeling rebellious. Who was he to tell what not to do?

"Why can't I?" I demanded.

"You're a girl." He shrugged, implying it was just a matter of common sense. I snorted.

"Thanks for noticing. Then where do you suggest I stay?"

"You could stay at my room." I raised my eyebrows.

"You've got a room here?"

"I'm here three days a week. I'd be stupid not to." He fished the keys from his pocket and let them jingle for a moment, a smug smirk appearing on his face. I resisted the urge to pounce him and tickle him to death.

* * *

The room was quite spacious: it had three (!) beds, a table with four chairs, a closet and a small bathroom. Curious, I walked over to the window while Vaughn turned his bag upside-down in search for dry clothes. It was still raining cats and dogs and every now and then a sharp flash appeared.

"I'm glad we're off the ship," I muttered. One lightning was probably all it took to sink a ship to the bottom of the sea. And along with the ship, the passengers. I shuddered.

"You cold?" Vaughn inquired, throwing me a ball of dark cloth. Surprised, I caught it and unwrapped it. It was one of the black blouses Vaughn wore all the time.

"Don't you need this yourself?" I gestured to the piece of clothing. As if on cue, Vaughn pulled out another blouse from his bag.

"Hmm?" He curiously raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind," I replied, feeling a little dumb. "I'm gonna… y'know. Change. And stuff." I nodded as if to confirm my own statement and hurried into the bathroom. I carefully removed my bandanna from my head and wrung it out above the sink, before taking off my wet yellow shirt. and put on the Vaughn's black blouse. As I fastened the buttons, I realised how much the piece of clothing smelled like him. It was the same warm, slightly musky smell. I quickly fastened the last buttons and collected my clothes.

As I left the bathroom, I made a little swirl, earning a funny face from Vaughn, who sat on one of the beds.

"Don't I look fabulous?" I asked him snickering. He cleared his throat in attempt to look serious.

"Yes. No. Umm…" A playful grin appeared on his face. "Fabulous might not be the right word to describe what I'm seeing right now."

"Are you mocking me? 'Cause if you are, I'll have to jump you!" I declared, standing in my fighting stance and pointing an accusing finger at him.

"No, really! You look absolutely charming," he grinned, holding his hands up in defense. I grinned back, wanting to jump him nonetheless.

* * *

"Ah Chelsea, you're here." A dark haired, tall man poked his head into the waiting room. "Follow me, please." A little reluctant, I stood up and followed him into his office. Just like the rest of the clinic, the office was completely spotless. There weren't many personal items on his desk, just one photo frame. From where I sat I couldn't see the picture in it, but I guessed it was either a picture of his wife or child. I curiously studied his face as he flipped through the pages of my file. He had a kind face, but looked distant and cool at the same time. I decided the white doctor's coat wasn't really working in his advantage either.

"Your full name is Chelsea Rose Chapman, correct?" He inquired, looking up from my file. I nodded.

"My current place of residence is Ranch Island and my blood type is O negative," I summed up. He nodded slowly.

"I want to do a blood test first, to check how far your illness has progressed and to examine the concentration of blood platelets in your blood. Then we will start the transfusion."

One of the most annoying things about blood transfusions is the time it requires. I had been stupid enough to forget to bring a book with me and the magazines I had leafed through in the waiting room all dated from way before my birth. I sighed and looked at the dark red liquid that slowly dripped into a small tube that lead to my arm. The dripping had an almost hypnotising effect and I didn't even notice someone came in.

"Would you perhaps like some tea?" I looked up and saw young lady standing in the doorway with a tray in her hands. She had short brown hair, a kind smile and wore a white apron over her dress.

"Yes, please." I couldn't help but smile back. I watched her put the tray on the counter and pour me a cup of tea.

"Careful, it's hot," she told me as she handed me the cup. "Do you mind if I sit here for a while with you? You seem like you could use some company." I nodded and she grabbed a chair.

"So…" I started as soon as she sat, "Do you work here?" She took a sip from her tea and nodded.

"I've worked here ever since I finished medical school three years ago." She smiled. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a rancher," I grinned, proud to the level of idiocy. "I started the first week of spring, and I already have my first chicken."

"That sounds wonderful," she answered with yet another smile. "I'm not trying to be nosy or anything, but… is that Vaughn's shirt you're wearing?" I instantly felt my face heat up.

"Umm… well, yes," I muttered.

"I'm glad he finally found someone," she replied, taking another sip of her tea while carefully watching me over the rim of her cup.

"I'm just… borrowing it because um… Mine got soaked in the rain earlier." I laughed uncomfortably, tried to drink my tea and nearly choked on it. The nurse kept petting my back until I stopped coughing and apologised sincerely.

"I probably shouldn't have said that," she giggled and I muttered a 'probably not' in reply. An awkward silence followed, until I finally said something.

"Has my prognosis changed in any way?" My eyes searched hers, but I soon found out she didn't want any eye contact.

"A bit," she replied eventually. "The 'give or take four months' will probably turn into a 'take four months' over time." I nodded slowly, absorbing the information.

"Thank you for being honest with me," I told her.

Even though I wasn't sure if I had preferred her to lie.

* * *

_* It is a popular belief in Japan that someone's bloodtype says a lot about their personality. Agreeable, socialable and optimistic tend to go with blood type O. Type O negative is the so-called universal donor. I attempted, in my very own weird way, to show that Chelsea cares more about others than about herself._  
_According to this belief, Vaughn has blood type AB: cool, controlled and rational. Although I'm not so sure about the last._

_The chapter turned out very different from how I imagined it to be and it seems like hardly anything at all happens, but this might be the quiet before the storm...  
Oh, and please check out the new poll I've put up on my profile!_


	13. Flowers

**Chapter 13**

I was such a naive person. I really expected things to get better between the two of us. Just like a fairy tale. The princess has a secret, shares it with the prince, he gets mad but in the end they make it up, marry and live happily ever after and have lots of kids. I rubbed my skin. It was dry and thin and pale. From the medication. Being a princess was merely a childhood fantasy. I wasn't a princess and I wouldn't live happily ever after. I pinched my arm. Softly at first. Then I pinched harder and it hurt. I hated my body for destroying itself. Most people somehow manage to walk away from their problems, but I can't. Can't go anywhere without taking yourself with you, can you? I bit my lip.

For two weeks my routine had existed of sleeping, tending the crops and my chicken and sleeping. I was miserable. Not from the medication. Not the treatment. I was as dead as dead could be, except for the fact I was skipping the part where I die and everyone cries. I had received several mad, concerned and frustrated phone calls from my parents. All I did was pick up the phone and lay it on my desk until I didn't hear them anymore. Then I would hang up. Just so they knew I still lived.

When I heard three knocks on my door, I at first thought it was my mom being overly concerned and yelled for them to go away. I was lying in bed, buried underneath a mound of blankets and I was cold. I didn't want to get out of bed and I was too tired to. Doomed be the world.

"Can't do that, Chels." I inhaled and forgot to exhale. If I didn't answer, he would go away, I told myself.

"Everyone is worried about you," he tried. An uncomfortable silence fell, in which he searched for words I hoped he wouldn't find. "You know, if you would just open the door, I'll be gone before you know it. I just need to see you."

"Fuck off, Vaughn!" I shouted from my bed, angry with his persistence. "You're unwell, Chelsea. Let me in and I'll make you soup," he attempted to sooth me. Nothing could have been more provocative. I jumped out of bed and kicked the door with my bare foot. I merely felt it sting a bit.

"I'm dying, off course I'm sick, you asshole!" I cried against the door, tears stinging in the corners of my eyes. A long silence followed and I sobbed and sank to my knees. I suspected he had quietly left. _The coward._

"If you don't open it, I will," I now heard him say with a steady voice. "I know I may not be the best person to be comforting you right now, but I'm here and I care about you and I know you need to hear this." I was mess, from the inside out and he didn't even look like he cared when I opened the door and he hugged me tight. I don't remember ever crying about my loss in such an unrestrained way before. I clenched his shirt so tightly it should have hurt.

"It's going to be alright," he soothed. I weakly attempted to beat his chest with my fists.

"No, it's not, I sobbed, "Why won't you understand?"

He didn't answer and I realised I didn't want him to. Because when he did, he would know all of it was hopeless. I didn't want to take away his hope. I didn't feel the tears roll down my cheeks, nor did I feel his warm breath in my neck. I didn't feel anything. I only realised I was going to catch a cold because neither of us closed the door when he mentioned it.

And it wasn't until the next day that I discovered the desolate flowers he left on my doorstep.

I wanted flowers on my funeral, lots of flowers. They always made me happy.

* * *

_I know this is chapter is really short, compared to the others and I know I haven't updated this story in a very long time. I know you've heard it all before, but a lot stuff I couldn't postpone came up and I soon came to the conclusion I needed to right some wrongs in my life. It's still an on-going project and I don't want you to expect too much of me right now, but I just wanted to let you know I'm still here and intend to finish what I started._


	14. Defying reality

**Chapter 14**

Today was the first day in a series known to therapists as 'acceptance'. By now I think I have been in all the other different stages of loss, although not in the order they usually occur. Denial, anger, bargaining not so much. Although I must admit that somehow I hoped that if I could pull off running a farm all on my own, I would live happily ever after. Depression. And now, acceptance. It has a nice ring to it. I get why therapists like to use the word so much now.

Elliot, Natalie, Sabrina and Vaughn have started helping me out with the farm since a week; I just can't manage it all by myself anymore. I can't exactly tell whether or not Elliot is being nice, being forced by his loving sister, or trying to impress Julia, who has been gracing us with her presence since a day or five. Not that I'm complaining. Not at all. She a great cook, as a matter of fact.

Vaughn won't let me live it down that I can't ask for help. Or accept help, when it's being offered. Except when Julia offers to cook for me. But that's just me doing _her_ a favour. I suppose the I-wanna-do-it-on-my-own attitude I had as a little kid never really went away.

"Shall I get the platters for you?" I informed, while Julia was chopping the vegetables for the salad she was making.

"Sure, if you can reach them," she replied, wiping the sweat off her face. Today was the warmest day of summer yet, and there were even more to come, according to old man Taro. I had just opened the cabinet when Vaughn came in, as sweaty as to be expected when you're working out in the fields in a cowboy get-up. He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he watched me reach for the plates on my tippy toes.

"You need some help with that?" He smirked.

"Do you want fries with that?" He walked over to me, wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up. I grabbed the plates. He put me down. I frowned.

"I'm not quite sure we are at that level of intimacy yet."

"Are you complaining?" He inquired, hiding a slight blush.

"Go shower, you're hot."

"Although I know you believe the contrary, it does stop being funny," he replied as he left the farmhouse, his cheeks still flushed.

"No sweaty men in my kitchen!" I ordered, just when Elliot appeared on the doorway. Julia smiled apologetically in his general direction and he disappeared from our view again. I snickered and she shook her knife at me while she faked a murderous expression.

"So sorry!" I exclaimed, defensively holding up my hands.

* * *

"I'm tired," I sighed, as we lay in the grass, in the shadow of the farmhouse.

"_I _am tired," she pointed out to me. "You're just lazy," she added, grinning.

"You make me want to throw stuff at you."

"I know I do," Natalie laughed. "That's why you love me."

"Speaking of which," I said as I sat up straight, "How is your purple-clad object of affection coming along? You never brought it up again, since I slept over." She pursed her lips into a tight, thoughtful line. I bit my lip.

"It's, ehm… what's the word? _Complicated_."

"Complicated, huh?" I looked at her.

"You lost the right to criticize my love life a long time ago," she retorted.

"I demand to be introduced!"

"Demand rejected!"

"Why?" I whined.

"Because you're being awfully bossy these days," she crossed her arms.

"This is me cooping."

I don't know what it is about Natalie that gets me to act like I did back when I was ten years old and thought I was old and wise enough to be referred to as an 'adolescent'. Even though ten year-olds don't get to drive and watch PEG 12+ rated moves, I can't help but miss those days sometimes. When I don't have Natalie around to take me back. She drives me nuts, but I'd probably go crazy without her.

"We should have another sleepover some time," I suggested.

"You'd better bring your own pyjamas this time," she smirked.

* * *

"There you go," I soothed as I put Elpis back on the ground. She hopped on my boots and nested herself there. "Right… Do you need some more cuddling?" I sat down and patted on my lap. She got the hint and hopped on. "Yes, you need some lovin', yes you do…" I cooed as I as petted her. "Aren't a pretty bird?"

"You do realise she's taking advantage of you, right?" Arms crossed, anti-social cowboy style, he leant against the wall, enjoying the surprised expression on my face.

"Uh-uh. Big time. Can't say I don't like it, though," I grinned. "What are you up to, anyway? Shouldn't you be going home by now? It's pretty late."

"Shouldn't you be going home, then? I can't help but notice it's getting pretty late," he echoed, snickering. I felt my cheeks flush.

"Can't sleep," I mumbled, softly stroking Elpis' smooth feathers. He nodded, reluctantly separating himself from the wall.

"Me neither," he answered. "Wanna go for a drink?" He avoided my gaze and I bit my lip. There was a noticeable tension in the barn. He just stood there, his hands uncomfortably stuffed in his pockets, and I just sat there, leaning against the wall. Petting a chicken. A little voice in the back of my head told me to just go with it. And, why the hell not?

"…Sure."

He reached out to me and pulled me to my feet. Elpis clucked loudly in protest when we left the barn.

* * *

To be honest, I had never had alcoholic drinks before. My grandpa had died from liver cirrhosis: he drank beer for breakfast, lunch and dinner. My parents drank children's champagne on New Year's eve and I have never had the kind of friends that went out on Friday nights to get drunk. If I had , I would have known how terribly low my alcohol tolerance was. Although. Getting tipsy is kind of fun.

"Last time it was the other time around," I giggled.

"Last time?" Vaughn inquired.

"On the ferry. You were so drunk you couldn't walk anymore," I grinned. I felt airheaded. They say you have different types of drunk people. There are those who get sleepy, those who get really loud and daring, those who frankly can't stop talking, and those who can't stop laughing. I was probably the latter kind. Vaughn was the first kind. I watched him think for an instant, took another sip of my drink. It tasted sweet, like strawberries.

"I like strawberries," I stated while I put my glass down with a soft 'thud'.

"I'm sure you do," he nodded, appreciating the change of subject.

"You're kinda cute when you're wasted," I commented, remembering the awkward event again. He blushed, and emptied his glass in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I yawned.

"We should be getting you home," he tried.

"Just because I yawn, doesn't mean I'm tired," I objected.

"I just don't really fancy carrying you home again."

"You're a good cook, though."

"Thanks."

"Cheers to sweet memories," I lifted my glass, not completely realising he had finished his drink already.

"Cheers," he smiled. We sat there, at the table near the window. I took another sip of my drink. I could have been mistaken, but it tasted better with each gulp I took. At this point, I felt so light-headed, I thought I was defying gravity.

"Remember that you woke up the next morning, thinking you'd taken advantage of me?" I grinned.

"I like you better when you're sober," he mumbled.

"You still had your clothes on and everything. The whole cowboy outfit," I continued, ignoring his remark. "Not that there's anything wrong with your clothes, I really like them. Not so keen on the hat, though." I crossed my arms and nodded, satisfied with my own analysis. The blush on his cheeks returned and I felt victorious. I grinned and hiccupped.

"This is your last glass," he noted, looking away.

"It's my first alcoholic drink ever," I snickered.

"Your fifth, actually," he corrected.

"Now you're just being childish," I grumbled and hiccupped once more, before finishing my drink. Vaughn stood up and helped me on my feet. 'Such a gentleman!' I had called him, not realising I said it out loud.

"Wait here," he told me before walking to the counter to pay for our drinks.

"Hey, Vaughn? You're an alright guy. Get her home safely, will ya? Don't want anything to happen to my favourite costumer." Nick smiled broadly as he towelled a glass dry. Vaughn promised he would see me home, and returned.

"You're back!" I exclaimed happily, hooking my arm into his. He left it there. I nuzzled his arm, satisfied. If I'd been feline, I definitely would have been purring.

"Let's get you home." We left the café and headed towards my farm. It was dark and I estimated the time somewhere around two o'clock. We passed Natalie's house and I noticed that her room was dimly lit. The fresh air blew through my hair and I felt like skipping. I locked my arm around his more securely.

"I swear, I am defying gravity as well as reality."

"Aren't you awesome," he snickered.

Before I realised it, we had arrived at my front door. Had I brought my keys with me? I searched one of my pockets. No keys. I tried the other. Found them. Then I dropped them. Picked them up, and dropped them again, before I could attempt to unlock the door. Vaughn collected them, and opened the door for me. I looked at him and smiled gratefully. He smiled back. I remember feeling the need to say something. Eventually, he leaned in close and chastely pecked my cheek. I felt my face heat up and my mind went blank. He blushed and his lips curled up.

"I'll see you in the morning." I nodded, dumbfounded. "Don't be late," he added with a grin, before turning around and walking away.

* * *

_I am the type who annoys herself by talking too much. And hooray! Vaughn finally got the hints!  
For anyone who'd like to know what took me so long, I've posted a journay entry on my profile. And I got a new poll! A cookie for your thoughts, criticism, complimens and vote. C:_


End file.
